Two Blacks Diverged
by Velvet Quills
Summary: Regulus's ambition was neutral, the color of his eyes. Sirius's love was fiery, the colors of the house he was sorted into. Sirius made friends he would die for. Regulus made a cause he would live for. Regulus committed himself to his girlfriend. Sirius was a ladies' man. Two sons of the House of Black chose different roads, but would they ever truly part? PARALLEL UNIVERSE.
1. Prologue

_**Two Blacks Diverged**_

Author's Note: Okay, just a few things to say. Peter Pettigrew is a character I completely detest, and for the purposes of this story, he was born a Squib, and never came to Hogwarts. He may (or may not) make a minor appearance, later on. You will have questions about Lily; I promise you, it's not a mistake, it will be explained in the fullness of time (or this story). Also, Regulus Black has always fascinated me, and in this story I'm going to devote a lot of time to developing his character. He is absolutely NOT a pushover, he's a Slytherin. In case it isn't clear, this prologue is not of the format the rest will be in: this is the quick background to a story taking place in the 1976-1977 Hogwarts school year, and possibly beyond, if I get enough positive feedback. If this seems not to be your cup of tea, feel free to depart. Otherwise, read, enjoy, and (please?) review.

 **Prologue**

 _1971_

(Regulus's POV)

We are on platform nine and three quarters - Sirius, our parents, and I: Regulus Arcturus Black. Sirius is going to start at Hogwarts School this year; I won't until next. I do wish I could go, both to get to see Hogwarts and to be able to spend time with Sirius, but such wishing is in vain. My Mother is giving Sirius some last-minute warnings about how to conduct himself. I edge my way over the moment she turns to speak to another Pureblood matriarch.

"Siri?" I ask, tugging on the sleeve of his robe. He turns, and smiles fondly at me. "Yes, Reg?"

"Siri, promise me, however many friends you make at Hogwarts, they'll never replace me."

"Of course not, Reg."

"And write to me, please? Tell me about everything. I'll write back."

"I'll write, I promise."

And then he turns and walks onto the train, and I know in my gut that it'll never be the same between us again.

(Sirius's POV)

I get Sorted into Gryffindor. That is the biggest shock of my life, but I know what will follow. Surely enough, Mother dearest sends a howler the very next morning. It is hard to be as brave as one of my newfound House should be and shrug it off - after all, she _is_ the woman who brought me into existence and let me live under her roof for the past eleven years. I've been conditioned to cringe at her displeasure.

The blow of her disappointment is softened, however, by a short note from Regulus, my sweet little brother. He writes:

"Siri -

I hear you are a Gryffindor now. I hope you thought through the consequences of that action, but, assuming you have, I wish you all the best in your new House.

Siri, I don't want to let this come between us. No matter what you do, no matter what our parents say about you, I will love you until you stop loving me.

Good luck surviving the lions, and the snakes as well. Write to me soon and often, like you said you would.

\- Reg"

Regulus is someone you can count on to keep his promises and your secrets. To be frank, he's probably the most Hufflepuff-ish Slytherin-to-be I've ever met. However, I just can't see him doing that to our parents - getting Sorted into Hufflepuff, I mean.

James Potter and Remus Lupin, my dorm mates, are really swell guys. They'll make being in Gryffindor a piece of cake for me. Speaking of cake, maybe I can wheedle some from the House Elves. Note to self: find the kitchens A.S.A.P.

(Following Sirius)

The infamous friendship of Sirius Black, James Potter, and Remus Lupin began very soon. While Sirius and James were closer with each other than they were with sickly, book-loving Remus, their penchant for mischief amused him no end, and he more often than not found himself being roped into their activity of the day. His knowledge of advanced spells and spellwork make him a valuable asset to their team, and their loyalty in bringing him his favorite hot chocolate whenever he found himself in the hospital wing cemented their comradeship.

 _1972_

(Sirius's POV)

I'm back at Hogwarts again, yay! I can hardly stand the stuffy House of Black (even though Gryffindor banners now line the walls of my bedroom, courtesy of moi), since I've lived at Hogwarts. It doesn't help that Mother dearest wanted me to stay away from Regulus, and that Father decided that Stinging Hexes were in order for my "disappointment to the House of Black", as Mother called it. I had to resort to sending frequent owls to James and Remus.

I can't wait to start a new year of fun!

Ooh, the Sorting is starting! Regulus is the third to be Sorted, and I hold my breath. I know he'll go to Slytherin; I'm not even sure what I'm hoping for, if my wish were to be granted. _Aaand_... Yes, there he goes: "SLYTHERIN!" Half of me is glad to see him where he'll be safe, the other half sad that we're not together. He'll be fine, though. He doesn't need me, will be better off without my "bad influence". Somehow, though, it feels like a piece of my heart was just ripped away from me.

"Alright, Sirius?" James inquires. He's noticed me staring off into space.

"Absolutely, James," I answer, casually implying that there never was a reason to ask. Then, because he still doesn't look convinced, I add, "I bet you a Sickle I can drink my pumpkin juice faster than you."

And James grins, and Remus shakes his head but agrees to referee, and it doesn't matter that I spill mine down my robes when I tilt it too fast, and lose a Sickle, because everything is back to how it should be.

(Regulus's POV)

I sneak a glance at Sirius as I'm settling myself down at the Slytherin table. He's studiously avoiding my gaze, and it takes all my willpower to turn away from him and take a seat on the other side so I won't accidentally be caught looking at the "blood-traitor". I don't believe any of that rubbish - honestly, three syllables from a tatty piece of cloth deciding your fate? I don't think so.

The next boy to be sorted also comes to Slytherin, Edgar Bones, and he sits next to me. He's a Pureblood, from a well-respected family, so I have no reason not to publicly interact with him. We introduce ourselves, but don't smile. There are too many people here we don't know, to display such blitheness.

A few minutes later, we're joined by Paul Nott, another Pureblood. Good. I've made two friends who will please Mother, and they're both tolerable. Possibly enjoyable, even. Edgar has an exuberance and brightness which are rare in Slytherin, and Paul's dry sense of humor is pleasant as well. I'll enjoy rooming with them.

The next morning, there's a letter for me from Sirius. It's short, but I think it's sincere.

"Reg -

Good job making Slytherin. I hope you went there because you wanted to, not for Mother and Father; either way, I hope you're happy.

If you need my help in anything, little brother, I am here for you, regardless of House.

\- Siri"

I know we're drifting apart, but I'm glad to see that he's making an effort to keep up contact as well.

(Following Regulus)

Regulus Black, Edgar Bones, and Paul Nott formed a bond that transcended cautious Slytherin alliances. The top students in their year, they were well-matched intellectually, and became a formidable team in the Slytherin-Ravenclaw debate nights.

The young Slytherin trio was pranked by the self-dubbed "Marauders", but when they retaliated in kind, the professors formed a united front in nipping the budding prank-war before it could blossom. In protest, the six boys banded together to prank the staff, but were forced apart by House prejudice after only a few instances, much to the teachers' relief.

 _1973_

(Regulus's POV)

I am glad to be going back to Hogwarts, even though Edgar and Paul and I visited each other over the summer. It is fun there, and good preparation for the real world.

I also must admit, it is grating, having to listen to my Mother's rants on blood purity and how much of a traitor my brother is, having to agree, and having to comfort Sirius.

(Sirius's POV)

This year, we are going to be allowed to go to Hogsmeade, and I can't wait. I already have a date, and James, who also shot up in height this past summer (we talked via the two-way mirrors he gave me last Christmas), is interested in that annoying Slytherin girl, Lily Prince. I know she's pretty, but she'll never say yes to him, even if he can get past her greasy guard-dog, Snivellus.

(Following Sirius)

Sirius quickly gained a reputation for being a ladies' man, so to speak, just as James earned his for being hopelessly infatuated with the gorgeous Slytherin "Tiger". Remus evaded his friends' attempts to set him up on a date, alternately citing a disinterest in such "frivolity" and a dedication to his "relationship" with books, a proclamation which never failed to send Sirius and James rolling on the floor laughing.

 _1974_

(Sirius's POV)

This year is going to be great, I can feel it in my bones. Since Remus came out to us last year as a werewolf (cool, no?), we (James and I) are studying to become Animagi. It's hard to study without Remus, but, hey, we're geniuses; and Remus would try and put a stop to it if he found out. To keep him distracted, we've come up with the awesome idea that we should make a map of the entire Hogwarts, and he's so busy researching magical cartography that he'll totally ignore us (or that's the plan, anyway). I can't wait to be able to be there for him.

 _Aaand_ , James is _still_ chasing after Lily, so poor little me is all alone when Remus is off doing homework. The girls love keeping me company though, so it's not all bad...

(Regulus's POV)

With Voldemort (a.k.a., "The Dark Lord", "You-Know-Who", and "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named") becoming increasingly prominent, we in Slytherin are becoming divided. I absolutely do not adhere to the blood purity drivel some of them (Paul Nott and faction) have started to spout, but I'm no muggle-lover (Edgar Bones and faction), either. I admire Voldemort's ambition and cunning in forming such a fearsome and dominating persona, but I don't understand the members of my House who wish to serve him. Do they want it for security? To learn his secrets of success? Personally, my own ambition urges me to strike out on a path of my formation, but safely. I am ruminating on what my choices truly are, and collecting a portfolio of news about Voldemort, so that when the time comes, I can make an informed decision.

(Following Regulus)

The Black-Bones-Nott debates were famous throughout Slytherin and Ravenclaw Houses. At one of the fiercest between the still-friends, Regulus's attention was drawn to a Ravenclaw girl his year, Emmeline Vance, who spoke up to support his position with passion and irrefutable evidence. He asked her to Hogsmeade the next day, and she accepted. Regulus asked her to be his girlfriend on Valentine's Day, and she again said yes, sealing their relationship.

 _1975_

(Regulus's POV)

It was hard to stand, the tension on my house, last summer. Sirius looked fit to burst, but he managed to pull through. It was no walk in the park for me, either, both sides doing their best to destroy my neutrality. I had to lie to my Mother's face, and now Sirius suspects I'm lying to _him._ To tell the truth, such accusations hurt far worse than Father's Stinging Hexes, and it's a pain only words can heal.

I think I swayed Edgar and Paul somewhat, this summer, and my darling Emmeline is perfection. She's beautiful, witty, and kind. I've been torn between asking Father to speak with Lord Vance about a marriage contract, or waiting until I can talk it over with her and hear her opinion. I know it seems soon, but I'll be crushed if she doesn't want to marry me when I do finally ask her.

(Sirius's POV)

I'm utterly ecstatic to be back at Hogwarts. Even the thought of returning to the House of Black is enough to make me contemplate... Taking various drastic measures. The derision my parents exhibit for me was at an all-time high, and I could see the toll it was taking on Regulus. I seriously (and Siriusly) contemplated running away, but I can't stand the idea of leaving my brother to fend for himself.

The Marauders' Map is done, or will be soon, Moony promises, and James and I are oh-so-close to reaching our Animagus forms. I absolutely can _not_ wait!

(Following Sirius)

Sirius found his Animagus form that year, the Grim "Padfoot"; and James, the stag "Prongs". They enjoyed the nights of the full moon with Remus (a.k.a. "Moony"), who was aghast and overcome by the daring and compassion of their gesture.


	2. Chapter 1: Disownment

_**Two Blacks Diverged**_

Author's Note: I've ready many different variations of the Magical Oath in fanfiction. This is my take on it, I hope it doesn't offend. And, yes, the remark about the hippogriff is an allusion to the future Sirius now may or may not have, of sharing his room with Buckbeak.

Special thanks to Dancing-Souls for reviewing and favorite'ing, to Blare1994 and dreaming of rocketships for follow'ing, and to a guest (only you know who you are) for leaving a review. The warm happy feelings make this seem so worthwhile... (Hint, hint. :p)

I realize I forgot to state the obvious (but requisite) last installation, and this goes for the entire fic: **I do not own Harry Potter!** J. K. Rowling, please don't sue me, imitation _is_ the sincerest form of flattery, after all.

 **Chapter 1: Disownment**

(Sirius's POV)

"I can't believe Mother did it," Regulus says, his voice hushed so as not to be overheard. "Well, I can believe it, but... I'm sorry, Siri. I... I hope this is what you want. You can stay with Potter or Lupin, right? And, we'll see each other at Hogwarts...?"

I can feel a bitter grin twisting my lips. After all I've been through today, my brother's simpering is the last straw.

"Listen, Reg, and listen well," I spit. "I'm out of this family, lock, stock, and barrel. You don't need to suck up to me anymore, Heir Black. I'm a blood-traitor."

He winces, hurt flashing across his face like I'd slapped him. "Siri, I don't care about any of that. Merlin, you know why I'm top in Charms in my year? Because Lily Prince tutors me, that's why. You know that even though she was vouched for by the House of Prince, she's still a muggle-born. Her blood didn't change, you know, but she's a Slytherin and an incredibly smart and magically strong person. I know - _you_ should know - that blood is not even passed from parent to child, if you took Healing. It's a load of rubbish. So why should I care that your name has been burned off a tapestry?"

It is my turn to wince as I remember my Mother's vicious anger as she set fire to my face on the tapestry, promising me that if I didn't get out of her house by sundown, she's do the same to my own face.

I ignore Regulus's speech against blood purity. Merlin knows I've never expected to hear words to that effect coming from my brother's mouth, but it doesn't matter. If I listen I will start to calm down and I want to be angry, want to be flaming with righteous indignation. He's got the right idea for once? Bully for him. He's still a slimy Slytherin. He's probably just trying to stay in my good books, so he can feed information to the Death Eaters when he joins them.

(That was the breaking point for me, by the way. Mother dearest wanted me to "redeem my name" by joining the Death Eaters. As if. I'd sooner die by prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus Curse than serve that villain. I refused, of course. So began that row today, which ended in me being disowned. Good riddance, I say. The stab of betrayal at not being wanted is a small price to pay for freedom.)

"Well, great, Reg, good for you. _So_ glad you finally came to your senses. You'd betray your Slytherin pals for a heart-to-heart with your outcast of a brother, huh? Well, flattering as that may be, if you were trying for an ego boost, I'm sorry to tell you I've always known I was better than you snakes."

Regulus's hand twitches, and I know he's itching to grab his wand.

"Don't you dare," I warn. The last thing I need is a duel with my little brother.

His eyes flash loathing at my challenge, and quicker than light he's drawn and is holding me at wandpoint.

"Pay attention, you imbecile." His voice is menacingly low. "I have had _enough_ with your games, your self-righteousness, your inanity. I am going to take Veritaserum, and I am going to swear a magically binding oath. You are going to do the same. If you do not agree, I will force you, do not doubt it."

Watching him in horror as he accio's a bottle of Veritaserum, my fingers inch toward my wand surreptitiously.

"Oh, no you don't." Regulus chides. Accio'ing my wand, he tips three drops of the clear liquid onto the tip of his tongue, then swallows.

"Ask me a question."

I spend a moment thinking of what to ask. Finally, a pleased smirk graces my face. "Okay, Reg. What do you keep in the left-hand drawer of your desk?" I know for a fact that he had a picture of his girlfriend, Vance, in that drawer, along with some... Rather private memorabilia from her. His cheeks stain a light pink as he fights his tongue for a moment before confirming my beliefs.

It would seem that the Veritaserum is authentic. I shrug, rapidly forgetting why we were having this conversation in the first place. "I'll have some, if you wish."

He nods, looking gratified, and hands me the bottle. I could so easily have smashed it, leaving him without a means to question me, but instead I bask in his trust. I let fall three drops - one, two, three - onto my tongue, and hand him back the bottle.

"And you, Siri," he says, with a wicked grin, and I positively know that whatever comes next will be filthy from the look on his face, so I cut him off, and say, "My middle name is Orion, which, despite having professed to hate because it's Father's name, I actually like because the constellation Orion is a warrior, like I hope to become someday."

He nods in a leap of faith to accept my confession, not pursuing the most embarrassing line of questioning he can. Of course, he knows it works, he saw it himself, but it still makes me glow a little inside that he took my word for it.

Regulus swiftly brings us back to the matter at hand. "Alright, then. I am telling the truth when I say I love you, I would choose you over our parents if I truly had to make a choice, and I never have purposely acted in a way which I believed would cause you serious - don't make that joke, it's not funny - serious physical or emotional harm. I also swear by Merlin and Morgana that I will never act against you in a manner to harm you significantly, or anyone you hold dear. So may my magic bind me." A shower of unburning sparks falls on him, and he hands me my wand. "The same, if you will."

Shifting uncomfortably, I take the wand, and say, "Righty then. I love you, you're the - I can't lie, _one_ of the most important people in my life, and I'd obviously choose you over our parents, but also over Gryffindor House. I've never tried to really hurt you in a way that I didn't think was for your own good, and I swear by Merlin and Morgana that I will never, and I mean ever, try to hurt you in a way you couldn't heal from, but it's my job as your big brother to knock some sense into you on occasion, so I won't swear against that. So may my magic bind me."

Regulus smiles, then, and he looks so happy, I just feel so guilty leaving him behind. "You should have thought of this before you got yourself disowned," a niggling voice in the back of my head tells me. "Shut up," I snap back at it, before I catch myself thinking both sides of a conversation, and silence the argument in my mind.

"Will you be alright here on your own?" I ask, scooting closer to him on my bed (when did we sit down on my bed?).

"I bet the atmosphere will be a lot lighter, once you leave," he says, his face perfectly straight. "Y'know... So much less Sirius."

"Prat," I say affectionately, bowling him over, and then we're scuffling, and I wind up on top, because I'm a year and a half older and weigh thirty pounds more (all muscle, obviously). I roll off him when he's sufficiently subdued, and has stopped laughing, and I ask him, "For real, though?"

He shrugs. "It's only another month until school starts, and two more summers. They, er... Not to be insensitive, but they like me. I can tolerate them, the same way you would a hippogriff. Y'know: bow, keep your eyes on it at all times, keep your wand hidden but accessible."

"You know, I'd rather share my house with a hippogriff than with them," I muse, just because I can't go for more than two minutes without opening my mouth and letting something fall out. Regulus laughs, and says, "For real, though, I'll be dead bored without you, but I'll be safe. That's what you really meant, isn't it?"

I say nothing, because it is.

After some period of silence, I notice the sun nearing the horizon, and I jump up. "Help me pack this all, will you?" I ask. He nods. Opening my trunk, I start doing some of the packing spells my Cousin Andie taught me: emptying the dresser, the desk, the bookcases. My trunk - nothing but he best for a Black, obviously - has different compartments based on which key you use, and Regulus and I make use of that feature now. Regulus surprises me when he summons everything I've tacked to the walls; pictures, banners, everything; regardless of Permanent Sticking Charms.

All that's left in the room to tell my story once my trunk is shrunk and in my pocket is my Gryffindor-themed wallpaper. It's sad, in a way, but I'm glad to be taking all I want to my past with me. To think, if Regulus had let me brush him off, I would have left with only the clothes on my back and a few most treasured keepsakes! I might never have spoken to him again! Ah, how such a little decision can make such an impact on the future.

I go to James's house when I have to leave, but I don't leave Regulus behind without a promise to exchange letters no less than every other day. James is happy to see me, and his parents are more than willing to take me in. Remus joins us, a few days later, and Regulus's letters are consistently amusing but hold no danger. Somehow, even though we're physically father than we've ever been, apart from my first year at Hogwarts, we're closer emotionally than we have been since we were little kids.

Merlin, if you asked me a month ago who I'd unconditionally die for, I probably wouldn't have even mentioned Regulus. Now, he's number one on _any_ list I'd make.


	3. Chapter 2: Refugees

_**Two Blacks Diverged**_

Author's Note: Special thanks to dreaming of rocketships for reviewing and lilleil for following!

 **Chapter 2: Refugees from Durmstrang** Institute

(Regulus's POV)

The last month flew by quickly enough, my remedial lessons as the new Heir Black consuming most of my time. As part of those lessons, I had to memorize the Pureblood family tree (we marry each other so much that all the families really only have one). This became useful when I found my Emmeline: as it turns out, she's three-quarters-blood: her maternal grandfather was a muggleborn. Now, I had never asked her, because that would have been rude, but I now knew that my parents would very likely disapprove of our marriage. Especially as I now was their Heir.

I _have_ to tell Emmeline. It's not fair or good to hide something like this from her, and if my parents decree that we can't be seen together in public, that'll be even more difficult. However, I will not break up with her just for my parents, if she doesn't break up with me just for having to be cautious where people can see us.

I mean, obviously once we're engaged there'll be nothing we can hide, but I might be Lord Black by then, or I might have enough weight of my own to sway them. Only time will tell, but I know that now is not a good time.

Enough with my indecision. Emmeline is nearing where I am standing with Edgar and Paul. She's walking fast, decisively, but not running. She is far too collected to engage in such an undignified practice. I admire that she always is so no-nonsense.

"Regulus!" I smile and wave. She reaches me, and her smile lights up her whole face.

"It's great to see you, Emi," I tell her. "Here, let me take your trunk." She blushes lightly - such a beautiful tint - and lets me take it.

"Let's go find a compartment," she suggests, "Before they are all full."

I nod, and start to board the train, Emmeline beside me. I can't help taking a swift glance back at the platform; yes, Sirius is there, with Potter and Lupin. Merlin help us, he's wearing a leather jacket. I love him to pieces, but really! Must he look like such a rough type of muggle? It must be embarrassing, even for _him_.

Emmeline points out a compartment, the last in the first car. It's empty, and I swing our trunks up into the luggage rack above our heads with practiced ease. (She doesn't have to know that I put featherlight charms on them, _does_ she? The way her eyes follow the muscles in my arms is most gratifying.)

We sit down, and by the time the train starts we've shared some kisses, and just as it's about to leave the station there's a kind of thud that shakes the whole car. I disengage myself from Emmeline long enough to open our compartment door to see what caused it, and find myself face to face with a girl I'd never seen. She is at least five and a half feet tall, so she's clearly no first-year, but I swear, I've never seen her before. I make a point of learning the names and faces of every Hogwarts student, not only the Pureblood ones, so I can address them by name when need be.

My rambling thoughts are cut off by a curt nod from the girl. Her short auburn-bronze curls shake with the gesture, and her hazel eyes are surreptitiously sizing me up. She's wearing muggle clothes, a cornflower-blue sweater and black jeans, and her trunk looks worn, but well-built.

"Well?" She asks, impatiently. "Are you going to let me in, or what?"

I'm taken aback by her brashness. "Regulus Arcturus, Heir of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black," I introduce myself smoothly, offering my hand. I admit it, I hope to put her off with my formality. She doesn't seem the sort I have any interest in spending time talking to. She's probably a Gryffindor, anyway.

The girl stares at my hand like it's something disgusting. I'm a bit offended, there is absolutely nothing on it, I'm sure of it. She finally takes it in her (well-manicured) one, and drops it after one shake like it burned her.

"Lyn," she mutters, by way of introduction, and invites herself into our compartment. She starts to struggle to put up her luggage, and I automatically reach up to help her. She rewards me with a scowl, and I send Emmeline a helplessly apologetic glance when the girl has sat down across from us and pulled out a magazine to read. I don't recognize the language, but it looks like German or Bulgarian to me.

To break the uneasy silence, Emmeline pipes up with a question. She's even more tolerant of low-class people than I am.

"So, did you see what made that noise?" She asks, what really looks like a genuine smile gracing her face. "It was just before you came in...?"

The girl - Lyn - looks up. "You're joking, right? That was me jumping onto the train with my trunk. Stupid train station was hidden," she adds, under her breath.

I am surprised: it would seem that this Lyn hasn't been to Hogwarts before. I am debating the merit of pursuing that line of questioning, when a brisk knock sounds on our door.

I stand up once again, and open the door. It's another unfamiliar girl, this time with a long golden braid of hair and blue eyes. She's wearing an prim look, her Hogwarts uniform pristine, not a hair of her head out of place. She smiles at me, but in such a way that we both know it's only perfunctory. She intrigues me immediately. She's not carrying a trunk, but rather a smart leather satchel. Unusual.

"Good afternoon, I apologize for disrupting your journey, my name is Roxanne Danvers, I am looking for a girl by the name of Marilyn Malfoy, have you seen her?" She rattles off.

"And I am Regulus Arcturus, Heir of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black," I tell her. "Miss Malfoy is in this compartment, if I am correct in assuming her identity. Would you come in?"

"Thank you," she replies, courteously, "If that wouldn't be too much of a bother, there do not seem to be many seats available, so I would appreciate that."

She walks in, and sits elegantly beside she whom I now know to be Marilyn Malfoy. Emmeline flashes her a smile, and goes on reading "Arithmancy: Numbers and Their Place in Magical Happenings", the assigned text for her favorite class. We both understand that we can't converse freely with these strangers there, but the two of them seem to have know such qualms. Listening to them over the top of the Daily Prophet, I do not try to ignore their conversation.

"Lyn, you promised me you'd make a fresh start here," Danvers protests. "I don't even understand how you get away with switching between being an antisocial wreck and the life of the party, but you have to get over yourself. I know we're not really friends yet, but I feel responsible for making sure you don't make Headmaster Dumbledore re-think his policy on transfer students."

"Well, that's your prerogative. I refuse to affect a façade of charisma - as you know I am well able to do - when I'm practically alone. I'll be great in class, I promise you. But why should I waste my energy in catering to these lovebirds? There's nothing in it for me. I know my way around a rumor mill well enough to protect my reputation. But if I hate someone - and I hold people in hatred until they've proven themselves tolerable - why should be nice to them?" This is Malfoy.

Danvers rolls her eyes. "It's called being a social human being, Lyn."

Malfoy rolls hers. "It's called being a bloody suck-up, Anne," she imitates.

The rest of the ride to Hogwarts is filled with similar bickering. I would enjoy it, if it weren't taking away from my precious time with Emmeline.

We finally are saved by my friends, who invite us into their carriage with their girlfriends (the Hufflepuff, Paige, and the Slytherin, Michelle, who are seeing Edgar and Paul respectively). The ride up to the castle is fairly uneventful, as is the Sorting. The two girls we met on the train are out of sight, and, frankly, out of mind.

That is, until Dumbledore nears the end of his speech.

"And, please do remember, the Forbidden Forest is, unfortunately, forbidden for any students to enter, just as the name suggests. Speaking of students, a few of you may have crossed paths with two delightful young ladies who you have not previously met. They are transfer students from Durmstrang Institute of Magic, and I hope you will all make them feel welcome here.

"They will now be Sorted. Roxanne Danvers, would you please come forward?"

Danvers appears from an innocuous door, looking more perfected than ever.

"Here I am, Headmaster," she tells him.

"Very good. The Hat, if you will?" She takes it, and it is twenty-one seconds before she is proclaimed a "RAVENCLAW!"

"Now, Miss Danvers will also be taking the position as teacher of Defense Against the Dark Arts, this year. She received the most Outstanding marks on her O.W.L. exam on that subject, and has been subjected by life to a very rigorous curriculum. I have no doubts that she will do a most admirable job."

Danvers smiles in a faux-humble way, and glides to sit at Ravenclaw table. She sits neither specifically close to nor specifically far from Emmeline.

"And now, our second transfer student. Marilyn Malfoy, will you please come forward?"

Malfoy makes a much more spectacular entrance, throwing open the doors to the Great Hall and levitating herself over the tables to where Dumbledore stands. He does not seem perturbed in the least by her dramatics, merely handing her the hat, his eyes twinkling.

But, after thirty-eight seconds, when she is a "HUFFLEPUFF!", she does not go to sit down.

"Will everyone listen, please!" She shouts, jumping up on Hufflepuff table, to the concern of several Prefects and first-years.

"You all heard, I came from Durmstrang. Well, that's true. You also heard that I'm a Malfoy, which is also true. Both associations are reputed to be Dark. I'm not disputing that, but I want you to know, I wholly oppose Voldemort and Dark magic in general. I left Durmstrang because Igor Karkaroff, who is a Death Eater, just became Headmaster.

"Yes, don't look so horrified. I'm not afraid to speak about Voldemort; his Death Eaters won't stop torturing and murdering innocents just because I keep my mouth shut. Lucius Malfoy, my cousin, is also a Death Eater and hates that his paternal uncle - disowned paternal uncle, I might add - married a muggle. So, yeah, I'm a half-blood. _Who bloody cares?_ It's red liquid, for Merlin's sake! So, if I hear anyone prattling on about blood purity or supporting the Dark Lord... I will not be happy. And if anyone has a problem with me, tell it to my wand, don't say it behind my back. Yeah? I wanted out of the place that was so prejudiced, and by Merlin, if Hogwarts is no better than Voldemort's own fairground, I don't know what this world is coming to."

She earned herself a smattering of applause as she took her seat, red-faced from passion. It mostly came from Gryffindor table, but some radicals in the other Houses gave her a hand. I did not, as I did not want to ally myself with someone I knew so little about, but I did not reject her with sneers and snide comments like some in my House ( _cough_ aspiring Death Eaters _cough_ ).

A new variable in the political arena will certainly spice things up, and I have never yet backed down from a challenge. And that's exactly what figuring out Malfoy's real motives will be: a challenge.


	4. Chapter 3: Romance

_**Two Blacks Diverged**_

Author's Note: Thanks so much to two guests for review'ing, and to Emiliya Wolfe for following! I don't want to whine, but if anybody who has time would drop me a review, just one sentence, I will be eternally grateful.

To make sure I don't go beyond the T rating of this story, some people will be making allusions (in single quotes) with harmless words. They're teenagers; there will unavoidably be some flirting, and, later on, kissing. If you don't get what they're saying, you're probably too innocent to be on ffnet. ;)

Readers, I can only offer my deepest apologies for the wait. My friends and I spent Memorial Day Weekend having a Star Trek marathon, and then my computer decided it didn't want to connect to the internet. :( Live long and prosper!

 **Chapter 3: Romance in Defense Against the Dark Arts Class**

(Sirius's POV)

It is futile, really, to imagine that I wouldn't be intrigued by and attracted to and despise the girl who - when completely new and friendless - stood up and swore to the same beliefs I hold. I strongly sympathize with her outcast-in-a-Pureblood-family experience, and it didn't hurt that she was, to put it plainly, a gorgeous woman. And you had to give her credit for moxie. Not even the Marauders have stood up on a table to talk about something as serious as politics. But, exactly for that, for being better, it's my obligation to hate her, at least until I win. Then I can be kind.

I know she'll fall for me as soon as we meet, so I'm anxious to meet her. I'm not being arrogant or anything, I'm just self-aware. I discovered a constant of the universe at the tender age of thirteen: no female can resist the charm of Sirius Orion Black. Period. Sirius Orion Black, on the other hand, holds feelings for no one but himself.

Well, with my famous luck, she is in the first class I walk into.

Defense Against the Dark Arts. We have a new Professor every year, have since before I started. And this year, it is going to be taught by some Ravenclaw from Durmstrang, a fellow sixth-year! I don't think she'll be good for more than a laugh, but, then again, not many Defense professors are.

Professor Danvers - Roxanne - is not in the classroom when I get there, along with James and Remus. Actually, at first, I think that we've come to the wrong room, because there are so many people in it. Looks like all the sixth- and seventh-years are gathered here, of all four Houses.

The room is large, maybe half the size of the Great Hall, and is set up with desks ringed around the edges of it, all facing the center. The heavy drapes are pulled back from the tall windows, filling the room with sunlight and making dust particles shine in the air.

My attention is called away from my observations when someone - a girl, by the sound of her voice - calls James's name. Or, to be more precise, she shrieks, "Jamie!"; the nickname his parents use, which he positively detests. I briefly wonder who would have the nerve to use it here at school.

James whirls, looking for the source. It's Malfoy, the new girl. I notice that her outfit seems to be cut a bit less conservatively than regulation, and she wears it well.

"Lyn?" His voice holds equal parts shock and dismay. "What are you doing here at _Hogwarts_?"

"Didn't you hear, Jamie?" She asks, her tone bitter. "Durmstrang has fallen into Voldemort's hands. If there's one thing of say for Hogwarts, it's that I have no reservations as to which side the Headmaster is on."

James looks taken aback, running his hand through his hair in his signature gesture of discomfort. "I was in the infirmary last night for the welcoming feast, caught a nasty hex on the train. Pa - Sirius told me what you said, but he didn't tell me it was you."

She shrugs gracefully. "Now you know."

There's an awkward silence, and then Remus (bless him) speaks up to break the ice. "How are you liking Hogwarts?" He asks, brightly.

Malfoy - Lyn - does not have a chance to answer, because Danvers has just come in and is calling for everyone to sit down. I snag the seat between James and Remus. We're all reaching for our books and quills and parchment when Danvers begins,

"You can put all that away, everything but your wands," her voice is crisp and professional, like a miniature McGonagall. "This lesson is called Defense, and I'm going to teach you what to do when you need to defend yourselves. If this could be learned from a book, there would be no point in having me here.

"The book is required reading for your NEWTs. It's your prerogative to make sure you pass, so I won't be requiring any essays in this class. Your grades will be based solely on what we do in class. Certain days I will be absent, as I have matters regarding my estate I must attend to outside of the school. Madame Pince will oversee the class on those days, and you can use the period to do any reading or writing you wish for this or any other class.

"There will be a practical examination at the end of each term, and I will be giving pop quizzes on random days, most generally a question or requiring you to perform the application of some theory. These will not be unfairly difficult, but anyone using my class as a period to take a nap will fail, and _will_ be publicly shamed. People who don't value their lives enough to learn how to defend them will receive no mercy, either from me or from the real enemy out there."

I sit up a little straighter. This Danvers talks like she means it, and I can only hope she has the weight to back up her words. One of the Slytherins - ah, of course it would be Snivellus - is raising his hand, evidently following my train of thought.

"Professor," he sneers, "Why should we believe that you have anything to teach us?"

Her eyes and mouth narrow, and she's beginning to look like Remus does when you get him angry. She keeps her cool, however, and says, "Mister Snape, or, should I say, _Lord Prince_ , please come here." She's standing in the center of the circle, and we're all watching her with bated breath. He comes, slouching along like he doesn't want to be there, and comes to a halt near the middle.

Danvers doesn't say anything. She circles him a few times, almost prowling. "Draw your wand!" She snaps suddenly, and we all jump along with Snape. He complies warily, and she continues to circle him.

"You excel in potions to the point where you have begun to experiment, and you have also rediscovered some spells of a greater and lesser malicious value. However, some of them have been turned on you, causing you to regret sharing them with your friends, and become more closed-off. An altercation with your... Girlfriend? No, sister, has left you emotionally wrecked and led you to practice Occlumency to keep your feelings in check. However, you have not perfected it yet, leaving you unnaturally detached at times, but allowing your frustration with yourself to spill out into belligerence when you are provoked.

"You see most of your peers as silly and directionless people, not worthy of your time, and you wish to prove yourself above them, which you intend to do by becoming the most respected servant of the Dark Lord. Have I made my point? Or should I go on to tell you of the memories I could not have purloined from any here, your abusive muggle father, your witch mother who divorced him and disapproved of your muggleborn friend, who planted the notion in her head that you hated her, whom you killed when you found out what she had done, when you returned last summer?"

"Enough!" Snape is shaking, whether it be with fear or impotent fury I can only guess. Most likely, some of each. Danvers's performance calls to mind the protagonist of a series of muggle books Remus is enamored of - some detective by the name of... Sherlock Holmes, I believe. Danvers doesn't look concerned that she just spilled Snape's guts to the class, but I am, sort of. I mean, yeah, I hate Snivellus, he's a git, but some of the items she mentioned are offenses worthy of Azkaban, if she wasn't making it up.

"I ought to do more than just humiliate you for your disrespect to your betters," she says, her tone suddenly wistful and distant. "This is a school: we are hear to learn: your attitude prevents that. Do you know, for instance, how I so easily deduced your history?"

He doesn't answer, and she takes that for a reply in the negative.

"I _observe_ ," she tells us, her voice quiet but carrying to the edges of the room. We're silent, fascinated. "I look at your clothes, how you hold yourself, even your smell. There are stains on your fingers from potions ingredients, suggesting you held them for a time in thought, but there are no burns or scars, so you did not make accidents. You hold your wand with understated confidence, no show of bravado, but rather as a part of yourself, indicating your comfort with it as few have. When you feel threatened, you draw into yourself, not looking toward your friends for help, telling me both that they have not stood by you, and that you have been hurt in the past by authority figures.

"However, your first glance was toward a girl here, one filled with guilt and hurt, and your eyes flickered between fathomless depths and a cruel sneer. Your heartbeat accelerated rather spectacularly when I spoke of your mother was enough to show your guilt in her death. The rest is similar, based on your stance and the current political condition.

"I want all of you to know, I could do for you what I have done for Mr. Snape here. He happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, but such it is with the subjects of any activity. This was not particularly out of malice for Mr. Snape, but rather to prove a point. He conveniently volunteered, nothing more. And, this is today's lesson. The first step to defeating your enemy is to know them, and to know them you must be about to observe correctly and succinctly. Pair up, and I want you to hand in your observations by the end of class, along with notes from your partner as to the veracity of your deductions."

I do not choose a partner right away, opting instead to watch the drama unfolding with James. Get this straight: he's not infatuated with Lily by any means, but since third year he's nursed a little crush on her; and once she'd turned him down a few times, it was a matter of pride as well as romantic interest, on his part. I think she just likes riling him up.

"Prince!" He calls, hurrying toward her. "Will you -"

"No," she says, flatly. "I won't go out with you. And, it's Evans. Not Prince." The way she almost spits the name makes me realize how deeply Snivellus must have wounded her with his words the end of last term.

"I wasn't going to ask you out!" James says, his tone of wounded dignity. "I was going to ask you to be my partner!"

Lily stares at him. Then she cracks up laughing. "Potter, that has to be the least romantic marriage proposal I've ever heard. What, not man enough to even say 'be my wife'? Obviously, you realize who'd wear the pants in our relationship, if we had one."

I don't laugh, because James is my best mate, and he's spluttering and his ears are turning red, but I'm darn near it. I look away from the scene when someone taps me on the arm.

"Hi, Sirius," a girl's bright voice says. I turn around, and see Lyn, the girl I've decided will be my next girlfriend.

"Morning, Lyn," I reply, smoothly. I'm about to continue with something witty when she states, "We're partners."

I raise one eyebrow at her, but again she cuts me off again. "Everyone else is paired up. I call dibs on the seat facing the window."

I don't fight her for it. We spend a few minutes jotting notes down on parchment. Mine is mostly doodles of random little things. When we swap, I'm slightly impressed by the artistic talent displayed in her drawings. She finishes reading my list shortly after I finish hers, and we give identical Pureblood smirks as our eyes meet.

"So," I say, resting my forearms on the table and leaning casually toward my partner, "Who's the pretty mystery girl? How do you know James?"

"First cousin." She replies, curtly. Brushing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes, she changes the subject abruptly. "Sirius Black: Gryffindor, sixth-year... You know more about me than I do about you, Sirius. Spill."

I smirk again. It isn't often that a girl tries to boss me around. Lily and a few other Slytherin girls hate my guts; the rest swoon at my feet. After all, I _am_ extremely handsome. This Marilyn, however, just seems to brush off my charm and good looks. It will be fun to see how long that lasts. She's undeniably beautiful, even if she is a Hufflepuff.

"You seem very imperious, Miss Malfoy. What makes you think I will do what you ask for?"

Lyn shrugs gracefully. "You're a boy." Oh, so she has gotten that far already, I think, gleefully. Not that anyone could mistake me for a girl, but still.

"And? What does that have to do with this?" I goad.

"I am Marilyn Cassiopeia Malfoy," she says, stressing her name. "For some reason unbeknownst to my humble self, boys are always throwing themselves at me. By the way, congratulations on being the first single boy apart from Jamie to temporarily resist my... charms."

"Temporarily?" I raise an eyebrow. That sounds far too smug for my liking. "I'm sure I could 'resist' you forever, even once you start hopelessly chasing me."

Lyn's big eyes sparkle mischievously. "Want to bet? I bet you twenty galleons I can 'resist' you longer."

"Oh, you are so on," I say, my smirk broadening. "Only, some rules."

"Sure," Lyn agrees. "Let's take turns."

"No avoiding each other; sit together at meals and in class when possible. The first to make a move on the other or ask them out loses the bet."

Lyn nodded pensively, and adds, "No dating other people, either."

"What, jealous already, Malfoy?" I tease her.

"In your dreams, Black," she shoots back. "No, I just want to make it harder for you. You can 'see' whomever you like, so can I, but no feelings on the line. I don't want either of us to have to break some unsuspecting kid's heart. Besides, if I have a foolproof reason not to officially date, then I can turn down the boys without too much fuss. You know, it's weird how when you spend just one night with a guy, he suddenly thinks he owns you and get really mad when you tell him you don't want a relationship."

"How much experience have you had with boys at Durmstrang? I've heard that they're very strict about keeping boys and girls apart. Didn't you have separate classes, even?" I ask, genuinely curious but also testing her a bit. The girl might be all talk, after all.

"Marriage conduct lessons," she responds simply, wincing at the memory. "We have classes with the boys twice a week. Students are also encouraged to have... 'Sleepover parties', if you know what I mean. To learn 'how real life works'."

I nod, processing this piece of information. "So, you dated a lot?"

"Not like a relationship, generally, but yes," Lyn replies, unselfconsciously. "I 'went out with' most of the boys within two years of my age at the Institute, I reckon. The first ones talked, I got a reputation. I mean, I like being wanted - I deserve to be wanted. I just don't like all the emotional commitment stuff. So, Black, I take it Hogwarts girls are coming after you as well?"

"Yes," I smirk proudly. "I mean, why wouldn't they? But I understand what you mean. Relationships are just worthless at our age. You, however, seem to want one from me, huh?"

Lyn snorts, a sound that would have been unladylike coming from anyone else, but she manages to pull it off. "Not likely. I'm just curious as to how long your ego and resolve will hold out. I want to watch you squirm."

I smirk again. Boy, writing this down is making me realize how often I do that. "I'm afraid that won't be happening any time soon, darling. _Men_ don't squirm."

"Oh?" Lyn raises a skeptical eyebrow. She leans forward, giving me a very good look down the front of her robes, as she barely brushes my ear with her lips and whispers "Never?"

A lesser man than I would have either blushed and pulled away, or... Disregarded the fact that we were in a full classroom at the moment. As it is, I just raise an eyebrow at her, and say, my voice slightly husky, "Of course not."

She draws back, grazing my well-muscled arm with her immaculately-manicured hand as she does so. "Well, I'll be interested to see if you can prove that," is all she says.

Standing up, Lyn tosses me a saucy wink over her shoulder as she saunters out of the room.

"Hey!" I protest to the world as she disappears. "She can't just walk out like that! It's the middle of class!"

"I think, Mr. Black," Danvers says, swooping over to me in the otherwise-empty classroom, "That you and Miss Malfoy were a little too _distracted_. Your friends, as well as the rest of the class, left five minutes ago when I dismissed the lesson. Detention at eight o'clock tonight shall, I hope, help you focus in the future. Be at the entrance hall to meet Mr. Pringle. I will inform him to be expecting you." I groan in frustration.


End file.
